Another Life Altogether: A Novel - By Elaine Beale Page 0,114
Day.”
Of course, the pub was the only place we could imagine that he had gone. There was nowhere else I could think of that he might seek refuge. In the pub, he could sit in a darkened corner, nursing his wounds and a pint of warm, frothy beer. But if there were no pubs open I had no idea where he might be—except driving along empty roads, away from us.
When he’d yelled at my mother in the kitchen, all that anger he usually directed at the television had found its true mark. For the first time, I realized that he resented my mother as much as I did. Perhaps he had shocked himself with his anger as much as he had shocked me. But surely, now that he had admitted it, he would not return. I knew that if, like him, I was able to drive away and put miles and miles between me, this house, and my family, I’d find another life altogether and never feel the urge to come back.
After he’d eaten, Granddad dozed in his armchair. Across the room, Frank stared stonily at the television, and, on the settee next to me, Mabel’s eyes moved ever more anxiously to the window, which, with the sky now completely dark, only reflected back our cheerless gathering.
When A Christmas Carol came on, rather than wishing for Scrooge’s redemption I found myself despising Bob Cratchit for his ridiculous subservience and for burdening himself with such overwhelming responsibilities. When the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come arrived to visit Scrooge, pointing to the future’s possibilities with its outstretched, spectral hand, I wished instead that it had visited the penniless clerk to warn him of his life ahead when he was still a young man and had a chance to make different choices.
Almost as soon as A Christmas Carol ended, Granddad roused himself. “That useless dollop come back yet?” he asked.
“He’s not a useless dollop,” I said, feeling, more than ever, that there was nothing to keep my father here.
Granddad ignored me and checked his watch. “I don’t know about you, Frank, lad,” he said, “but I wouldn’t mind getting a move on. Can’t wait all night for our bloody Michael. I’ve got to get home. And, anyway, maybe he’s finally found himself a bloody backbone and left that lunatic….” He nodded toward the ceiling.
“I’d be grateful if you didn’t talk about my sister in that manner, Harry,” Mabel said, grabbing her cigarettes and shaking one from the packet. “That’s no way to talk about family, and especially in front of Jesse here.”
“Harry’s got a point, though, Mabel,” Frank said. “I mean, the woman’s a danger to herself and others, she—”
“Frank!” Mabel flashed him a beseeching look. She pressed a cigarette into her mouth, lit it, and took a gasping drag.
“All right, all right,” Frank said. “But we had better get home. It’s late. Time we hit the road.” He slapped his hands down on the arms of his chair and stood up. “Come on, Mabel. We’ll drop Harry off on our way.”
I turned to Mabel. “You’re leaving? You’re leaving me here by myself?” I was surprised at the way my voice rose, high and thin and quavering.
“Well, no, love, I …” She looked uncertainly over at Frank.
I hadn’t anticipated this moment, the moment when, my father not having returned, decisions had to be made. And, after my mother’s meltdown in the kitchen earlier, I certainly hadn’t anticipated that I would be left alone with her. Naturally, I didn’t want Frank to stay, and I wasn’t that keen for Granddad to remain, either, but surely Mabel wouldn’t leave me.
“Can’t hang around here all night, can we?” Frank said, shoving his hands into the pockets of my father’s oversized trousers. “She’ll be all right.” He nodded in my direction. “What, thirteen, isn’t she? That’s old enough to take care of herself. Come on, Mabel, get your coat.”
Mabel rolled her lips together, her eyes moving to Frank and then to me.
“Oh, come on, Mabel. It’s not like we’re leaving her by herself, is it?” Frank said, his tone indignant. “I mean, after all, her mother’s upstairs.”
I looked at him, incredulous. “You already said yourself she’s a danger to herself and others.”
Mabel still sat on the settee, taking fast, urgent puffs on her cigarette. “Jesse’s got a point, Frank. I mean, Evelyn was a bit beside herself today. And we all know that”—she paused—“well, she can go over the edge when she gets like that.”